


A Frayed Red String

by Dirthabro



Series: Drifter, Warlock, Dredgen, Lie [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Destiny, Destiny 2, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Morally Ambiguous Character, maybe they fall in love idk, nsfw in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-11-28 11:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirthabro/pseuds/Dirthabro
Summary: They've met before, and again, and after that too - both connected by a red string called fate.





	1. Call It A Difference Of Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The string begins, a loop in a bar and a proposition.

“Say - haven’t I seen you around here before?”

That was how it first started. A simple question asked by a simple man in a dark bar. 

“You looking to get your nose broken?”

“Hey now - just tryin’ to be friendly,” he put his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t see many Guardians around these parts.”

The woman raised a brow at him. “And you are?”

“A Drifter, just this is my latest stop.”

“A Drifter.”

They sat in silence for a while. It was tense, but the woman leaned back with her drink on the edge of the bar. 

“A Warlock.”

“No name?”

“That’s the only name you’ll get from me.”

“I getcha,” he moved over a seat to sit closer to her. “I’m evasive, you’re evasive; just tryin’ to know who’s coming here with what.”

The woman took a very heavy looking shotgun from her waist sling and put it in front of her. A threat and a warning.

“Now now - I’m just looking for some conversation. Not trying to rob you blind.”

The gun remained with a hand on the grip. She didn’t look at him, but stared at the wall infront of her. 

“If anyone talks it’s because they want _something_ ,” she said simply.

“You think I’m gonna ask you to hunt the biggest thing I find?”

She shrugged, now looking at him. “You could. Doesn’t mean I’ll kill it, doesn’t mean I’ll be cheap.”

He seemed to take that into consideration, nodding his head here and there. He leaned onto the bar top, avoiding her gun. 

“I like your style, sister. You’re honest.”

“I try.”

“If I _did_ pay you -” he responded just as quick, “You’d do it though, right?”

“You’ll have to make it worth my while.”

He flashed a handful of sapphire cubes at her, and her brows shot up in mild surprise. The hand on the shotgun hastily stowed it away, watching the Drifter with a newfound curiosity. 

“Did you rob someone for all of that?”

He pocketed it without a second thought, waving his hand nonchalantly, “I got my ways. I figured I’ve seen you around, a Guardian like you ought to be looking for work and all that. And conveniently enough, I need somethin’ done for me.”

There was a moment as she tilted her head back and forth. Glimmer meant a lot: food, weapons, supplies - all of which were constantly desired when far from the City. Even the small handful he had shown off could last her quite a long time if she played her cards right. 

“I’ve got more where that came from,” he offered. “Plenty, if you work for it.”

She stared at him for a long moment. She eyed him, gauging all of what he had to offer. Even considered robbing him.

“Deal.”

She stuck out her hand, and the man took it with a crushing grip.

“I’ll make your rich sister, I promise.”

She relinquished her hand from the man, putting her elbow on the counter with her glass in hand. 

“What do you want dead, and why.”

There was a bark of laughter from him, and he flagged the bartender for another set of drinks for the both of them. 

“Can’t be too much to ask you to track down a Wizard and capture it for me?”

“What’s a man like you want with a Wizard?”

He didn’t answer the question. Rather, he took his drink and clinked it against her’s. He downed it afterwards, grinning at the woman.

“Better drink - it ain’t cheap here.”

She watched him with a curiosity, meeting his dark eyes. 

“You’re strange.”

“Not the first time I’ve been called that.”

“Didn’t mean it as an insult. Just unusual.”

“Mm.”

It started off as a cold chill running down the length of their backs. Whatever lightheartedness the bar had was thrown out the window in an instant, and the two of them peered over their shoulders to see what caused the drop.

There were three Guardians that came into that bar. If their aura wasn’t enough of a give, it was what they carried. 

The Thorns on the waist of darkly clad Guardians was more than enough of a threat. Every step they took echoed and enraptured the patrons like a siren song. 

“You.”

The Warlock exchanged a brief look between the Drifter and one of the Guardians with the Thorn. There had been more to the man then what met the eye in the first place.

“You know I don’t know any of you like that,” his tone was wary.

“You got a lot of nerve showing your face around here - knowing what you did.”

“Hey now, I thought we had it good for a long time. I do me, you do you - peace, brother.”

There was a quick draw of a Thorn from the first one. The Drifter followed suit with his own hidden weapon, and the rest of the Guardians showed their hand. 

“I get it,” he started, not lifting the gun. “If you want a cut, you can have it. I got jobs for the lot of you if you want them.”

“We don’t want jobs,” a woman hissed from the group. “You’ve got explaining to do.”

“And you better start talking-” the leader clicked the Thorn. “Or else. One--”

“Now, I think we can be fair if you let me go--”

“- two -”

“-- plenty of glimmer for all of you --”

“-- three!”

Several things happened in that moment.

As the rogue Guardians prepared to fire, the Warlock drew her own shotgun and aimed it at the fireteam. She blew the leader clear across the bar, and the Drifter fired at the two remaining Guardians in quick succession before they could react. People ducked for cover, but before they could react it was over.

Their Ghosts zipped from oblivion, and Drifter snuffed them out like candles. 

The Warlock watched him carefully, brandishing her shotgun incase he felt inclined to go against her. 

“Sorry about your friends,” her tone was strained. “They seemed happy to see you.”

“Yea. Likewise.”

He stowed away his gun, and the Warlock couldn’t help but note his frustration. He wiped his face and faced her with a half-hearted smirk. 

“Good thing I made a friend here.”

“Uh-huh, can’t imagine how pretty you would’ve looked plastered on a wall.” She nodded her head at him. “I guess a five minute partnership comes with stipulations.”

“Glad you picked my side.”

She shrugged. The grip on the shotgun loosened. “You, or a bunch of Guardians using those guns? Far as I know, you’re just a man with a death wish.”

He had a toothy grin. “I think every Risen’s got a death wish - if they say they don’t, they’re lying.”

“You say that like you know us personally.”

“I ain’t a Guardian, no,” he put away his handcannon. “But I know what it’s like to live, die, and live again.”

She cocked a brow at him. He made a vague gesture to the whole of her, and then of himself. 

“Risen. Both of us.”

“You’re saying you’re one, but not a Guardian.”

He shrugged. “You don’t believe me.”

“You really do have a death wish then.” She shook her head, and a small smile tugged at the side of her mouth in pure irony at the situation. She slung her shotgun back around her waist. “Can’t say I blame you. You did just shoot-out the best bar this side of the EDZ, and now owe me a better spot to get the hell out of the Tower. With drinks.”

Drifter let out a bark of laughter. “I know a few places.”

“Good.” She dug out a handful of glimmer and put it on the counter where the pair of them were sitting, finishing her drink in one fell swoop. “You can go show me them.”

The Warlock walked out of the bar, and the Drifter followed suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey did you guys want more Drifter/Warlock? Because here's more Drifter/Warlock.
> 
> The chapters will skip around a little bit, but there will be a good but of NSFW put in here as well. I'm a sucker for romances that could go sideways (looking at you, FiGG), so why the hell not! There are also going to be moments of actual plot in relation to Destiny (a la the Nine and the Emissary and the whatnot), so expect some actual plot with some porn sprinkled in. 👉😎👉 And that should be the next chapter of course! After I update a few of my fics; I would like to carry on for the next chapter to be after _Death Heals Primeval_.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you'd like to support me, drop a comment! I love it and it inspires me to write more and update often. 💖


	2. A Lazy Faith And Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A debt repaid, and a trade of words and thoughts. NSFW.

It was a while before they saw each other again. Time was relative to any Risen - that much was true - but it was still longer than a day and shorter than two weeks. 

And for Drifter, even two weeks was pushing it. He wasn’t going to openly admit he _missed_ her, but he did get disappointed when every set of robes that walked into the Annex was another plucky Guardian looking to trade bounties. He wouldn’t complain about the foot traffic, but he wanted to see her. Be it to comfort a paranoid con man or even something else - part of him willed she not be dead for the sake of her being a part of his crew. There was no point in getting attached to people when Shin Malphur roamed around the wilds outside of the City, playing his sick game of ‘Judge and Be Judged’. And Aunor had been gaining momentum too, vying to get him out of the Tower and on the wrong side of a gun. 

He was closing up for the day when he saw it. 

His jade necklace. Around the neck of a particularly smug looking Warlock, who was hanging out in the halls of the Annex. Waiting on him. 

Maybe it was nerves, but his heart jumped just a tiny bit.

“I’m looking for a man who goes by Drifter. Have you seen him?” She was grinning from ear to ear while leaning against the wall. “He owes me.”

He whistled, cupping his chin. “Can’t say I have, sister.”

“Shame,” she sighed. “Here I was, going to invite him out on some wild stargazing tour if he had half a mind.”

“You really offering me a stargazing tour?” He laughed. “I’ve seen what the galaxy’s had to offer, and it’s not all the tall tales they’ll have you believe.”

“Oh, I know,” the Warlock closed the distance between them. “But it’s a lot more fun that spending all day doing nothing in the Tower, letting Guardians hash it out and reaping the benefits.”

He wanted to roll his eyes, but resisted. Yet he somehow gave her a smile.

“I got you those greaves. Had them for a few days now.”

Her eyes lit up. “Invader?”

“Just like you asked.”

She extended her hands in wanting, but the Drifter stopped her short with a raised brow and his own wicked grin.

“They’re on the Derelict.”

It wasn’t exactly what he had planned when he saw her again, but suffice to say Drifter _did_ take into account not to plan any private Gambit matches for a while. He learned his lesson last time - and justly so - would rather not incur the wrath of the Warlock a second time. 

He knew the ship like the back of his hand, but she still seemed to be in awe of it all. Studying it maybe - that’s what she did when she _wasn’t_ killing things. Studying, books, and research.

And he respected that, in a way. She still knew how to form her own opinions and with it, seemed to see what he saw when it came to the Light.

“C’mon,” he tilted his head towards the hallway where his small camp-out would be. 

She followed in suit, and he knew her eyes were wandering every which way to take it all in. His last tour of the Derelict didn’t show much, considering circumstances. 

His small, chilly camp was in shambles, but it was his home in a galaxy that could give out at any moment. 

The snow crunched under their feet before they hit metal, and Drifter stopped her short just before she came into the shipping container. 

“Boots off, I don’t need water everywhere.”

“Cozy little place,” she grinned, but complied with him. He took his own off and left them at the front. “No wonder you took to the Annex.”

“Can’t blame a man for livin’ out of his bag.”

“I sleep in my ship too you know.” She sat on his bed, tucking her legs underneath her. “My Ghost hated it during the Red War - kept telling me we could get shot out of the sky while orbiting Luna.”

He let out a noise of acknowledgement, going through one of his trunks for her greaves.

“Didn’t know you were hiding out on Luna.”

“Well, when death comes knocking - the smart work with it. I figured it was so anti-Cabal, there was no way I’d be found.” She gave a half-laugh. “And it worked. Lot of Hive still there though. And House Exile.”

He grabbed them from the trunk and tossed them to her, closing it and leaning against it to watch her. She caught them in one hand, thoroughly inspecting them. In the same breath he drew one of his coins, flicking it back and forth between his fingers. 

Curious about what she thought, but not worried. He knew her, what made her tick - but maybe not all of her quirks. He was still figuring those out, despite their past. He would have figured them out already had it not been for her tendency to disappear for days on end.

“You really _do_ know how to treat a girl right.”

“You did want ‘em, and I try to keep my crew happy.”

It wasn’t a second later she was taking off her current set to try on the new ones. He didn’t bother trying to avert his eyes - rather, he watched her every move, noting the curve of her as she slipped off her original ones and kicked them elsewhere, rushing to put on the new ones. 

“Lookin’ good,” he commented. 

“They feel better than my old ones,” came the response as she stretched her legs. She brushed aside the sides of her overcoat to show them off. “Can’t wait to see these in Gambit now.”

“You show up like that and I’ll be out of work,” Drifter laughed. “If the shotgun doesn’t send them running.”

“Consider putting a bounty on me and calling me a Primeval.” She sat back down on his cot, watching him intently. “Good luck trying to pay those out.”

“Maybe don’t be such a hardass and I could.” 

“Not my fault I’m good,” she shrugged. “You’re the one that told me to play Gambit. No shame in being a Invader, even if it pisses off others.”

“It pays to be good at it,” he dipped his head at her, rolling the coin between fingers and pinging it towards her. “Else you won’t be nearly as rich as I make you.”

“Not wrong about that - “ She caught the coin in a reaching hand. “It’s a nice little scheme you got, Drift. Glad I can be of service to you and your ever-reaching ambitions.”

“You know I got a soft spot for your motes, sister.”

“I know.” She threw the coin back at him. He caught it between two fingers, staring dead at her.

They were quiet for a long time, looking at one another. Time was relative for Risen, and moments like these were no exceptions.

“I got rezzed when I was away from the City - got blown up by a Skiff,” she said offhandedly. “Took away those marks you _enthusiastically_ gave me.”

The mood in the small hovel changed instantly. The carefree smile she was giving him turned into one that spoke volumes more.

“If you want more, I won’t charge you for ‘em.”

“A generous deal, but I thought it would be me charging you.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her, leaning up from his spot against a chest. He spirited away the coin from her view, stepping closer to the cot where she was getting comfortable. 

“I just filled a debt - now you owe me.”

“What, this?” She hooked a finger around the necklace that stood out against her armor. “I’ll admit - a deal’s a deal - but if you’re going to come over here and want to give me something new, well, I’ll just have to charge you, cause I’m not budging--”

He swooped down on her, capturing her lips and cutting off her witty reply. 

It wasn’t the rushed, needy meeting they had the last time they were on there Derelict. There was no immediate need to dominate one or the other - rather, it was patient as both bid their own time to savor the moment. 

Drifter put his hand on the cabinets above her, the other holding the side of her face. Maybe it was too tender of a move for the pair of them, but she didn’t seem to mind it as she held his wrist loosely. No demands, no bargains, just this. 

Her breath was soft on his own when he pulled back. Damn near intoxicating, too.

He leaned into her again, winding his fingers back against the nape of her neck. Her hand abandoned his arm to hold onto his collar. Every breath, every sigh - it was exchanged and granted, accounted for in equal with the other; symbiosis.

She tugged on him. The jaded side of him would’ve perceived it as a demand, but the way she almost lazily moved her mouth against his own - it was more of a question. An invitation.

He got a knee up and onto the cot before sinking down with her, breaking only once to settle himself against her. It was really only meant for one person with a little bit of wiggle room, but they made due - even if it was with her pressed against part of the wall and him hanging off the edge precariously. He propped himself up on his elbow to avoid rolling off, leaning his upper half into her. Between the plates and cloth, they were a tangle already.

With a pause and sigh, he trailed kisses down her jawline and over her neck just where the collar of her cloak hid away anything below that. Deft fingers found the bracings for the armor and peeled it off, earning a satisfied hum from the Warlock. Pleasing for her maybe, but enough for him just as well.

He savored this. Her. A moment where the Universe might collapse on itself but they’d be too ignorant to notice.

Her pulse was steady as he peppered kisses along the hot skin. It was delicate, unlike her own self. Just a while ago it had been riddled in dark marks thanks to his own doing, but now it was bare and laid out for whatever he wanted to do.

Teeth found skin, gentle at first. Testing the way her breath would jump into her throat, both at the mercy of him and with the will that he continue in his own fashion.

Drifter could feel her hands on him. They were working at their own pace to disarm him and expose him to her - not that he was complaining. He’d get her undressed in his own time, but the moments he could have her squirming and fighting to get more from him - _that_ had to be his favourite. 

It wasn’t long before her neck was covered in a myriad of marks, all individual with shape and color. She had gotten off his pauldrons and had him had him halfway out of his own chestplating before he pulled back to watch her. 

Her face was flushed, but not the wild need he had seen her with before. This was focused - her eyes blazing with a desire that threatened to burn them both. It was a hunger that he mirrored before in the past, unmistakable seeing it another. 

He shrugged off his armor as he leaned in to kiss her, chaste and simple. Not a goodbye - a small token of acknowledging what she wanted. In this case, him. 

“Need your robes off,” he mumbled against her lips. She leaned away from him and undid the latches in the tight space they shared. 

Beauty was fleeting in a world turned on its head, but damn if he didn’t appreciate her for everything else that wasn’t looks. She actually had a head between both of those shoulders that were now exposed to him, following that her bare chest and hips and beyond that. 

Maybe it was the silence that spooked them both. He let out a shuddering sigh as he kicked off his greaves. 

The last time was quick and easy. A means to and end. Now they had no time limit, no impending doom in his slice of the galaxy. 

Maybe it was nerve wracking to be exposed this casually to someone else for the first time in a very, _very_ long time. 

Her hands skimmed down the length of his chest, fingers exploring and understanding, learning, storing away information for whatever she had planned later. Even her own body was a mystery to him - he had only gotten the gist of her before. She had light scars along her side; from her days out in the wilds or recent? A rhetorical question of course when his mind was on something else.

His eyes flicked over her body, resting on that jade necklace of his that she wore like a trophy. It looked as if it belonged there, despite the rational side of his brain saying otherwise. It was his, just as in a way her loyalty belonged to him.

Didn’t it?

She kissed him a little harsher, a little more determined, seeking out more from the man. He obliged her, resting a heavy hand on her hip and winding it down the edge of her body slowly as she began to take her own lead. 

Even just the feel of her put him on edge; imagining her body react as it did last time had him wanting to completely ravage her, chase his own pleasure with her's in mind. A thrum of heat shot through him, a wanting for the inevitable.

"Thought about you when I was away," her voice was hushed when she drew back from him. 

Immediately he wanted to touch her again. "Mm." He traced circled along her thigh, looking for a response. "Thinkin' about ol' Drifter do you some good?"

She laughed. "Sure, maybe. Distracted me and got me blown up, but I won't hold it against you."

On the contrary, Drifter thought of something she _could_ hold against him. 

He grabbed her backside, drawing her closer to him to where their bodies touched. Her eyes lit up in the dim space.

"Gotta say, a woman like you shouldn't be getting blown up over a man like me."

"'A woman like me' got blown up over a bad Fallen deal, not you," she pressed a kiss into his shoulder, "You were on my mind is all."

"'Fallen deal'?"

She seemed to ignore his inquiry by throwing a leg over his hips, grinding down against his own. He gasped into the cold air, and his lips were caught by her once more. 

She rolled on top of him, narrowly avoiding the cabinets above them. Her eyes burned through him as she looked down at him, and part of it spurned something inside of him. 

It was that domineering look. He had seen it countless times before - even once when he pissed her off - but like this? 

This was different. This was what he liked about her in a more primal way, beyond what they did in Gambit and what the Vanguard would call illegal. 

He resigned himself to her, leaning back with his hands on her thighs. Watching her, however much he would rather hurry on. He was aching for her, in spirit and physically.

Her hands touched and wandered every part of his upper body, but her hips were another story. They moved - however small and menial - and it caused his breath to hang in his throat. He wanted to rock against her but with the way she had herself planted - it would be a tough time for him. 

The need for friction was starting to get overwhelming. She barely lifted her hips, and immediately he wanted to grab her and fuck her senseless. He was patient - always was - but now she was just being a tease. 

"You're cruel," he grunted. 

"I thought you liked that about me."

He wanted to respond that he did, but not like this. A desire for more, a carnal need that was being danced in front of him like a joke. 

She stroked him gently at first - he would have bucked into her hand had it not been for the way she had him pinned. Precum leaked from the tip and he grit his teeth in a bid for an edge, something raw to go against. 

" _Fuck-_ " He was weak, he needed her, wanted her and for her to take him and--

His wish was granted with the slow way she lifted her hips and lowered them onto his member. The air was effectively ripped from his lungs as she eased down onto him, slowly, _slowly_ \--

He almost came right then. He hadn't the slightest that he was this pent up, but it was justified. 

She sat like that for a long moment. He could feel every twitch of her, every small adjustment.

She was beautiful. 

Her eyes met his, brimming with something - lust maybe - and she leaned in to give him a short, tender kiss.

Then she rose from him and sank down on him once more.

It was her own, steady rhythm for a long time. She rode him while both of his hands gripped her sides for dear life, struggling not to ruin this while it lasted. 

It was a steady canter, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing against the metal walls. Her head was tilted back in a breathless moan, rising and falling to the dance she planned for. It grew harsher, more aggressive with every slam of her hips, discarding any potentially smarmy comments from him as he bit his lip to hold back a moan.

She leaned down to kiss him hard, her breath mingling with his own as she missed his lips and kissed his jaw instead. She didn't bother raising up once more, moaning against his throat in a moment of weakness.

Drifter took the initiative now. 

With newfound drive he rolled them over to where they were laying on their sides, tucking her face further into his neck as he slammed into her. He refused to hold back as she cried out against his skin, and he couldn't help a grunt as she felt her teeth where his pulse ran. 

He didn't hold back. Her body was everything he needed in this moment. It was all white as her voice filled his head, sending him spiralling further into a frenzy. 

He felt her come before he heard her response. With the way her body became rigid, he had to brace himself for the wave by digging his fingers into her hips and thighs. It was a desperately vague attempt to keep his head in order. 

He didn't last. His own breathy moan followed short of her's, and he couldn't help but bask in her own throes of pleasure. She damn near wrung him dry before he managed the spine to pull out. 

They resided like that for a long time in the other's company. Long after their breathing calmed down and the world seemed to fade back into perspective. He could feel her pressed snuggly against his throat, but it was a comfort despite it all. 

He moved his hands from her hips and upwards, snaking them around her. It didn't go unnoticed thanks to the small noise from her. He was surprised when her own touched his arms and remained there - grounding the pair of them. 

It was an odd intimacy. He never really took her for the type that enjoyed moments like these, but there were things about her he was still trying to figure out. 

His mind wandered, lulled into a sense of security with her breath on his skin. 

Time was still. In his small camp, there was no outside world on the verge of collapse, no Shin waiting for him to step out of line. There was no Vanguard or Aunor or anyone else that had plans to stop him. It was just him - the Survivor - and her - the Warlock. 

Maybe she would leave the system with him when the time came. He'd teased the idea and considered inviting all of those who he called his crew, but he'd yet to ask her. He imagine she would laugh and say she called it, but it was a truth. 

His mind flashed briefly to back when he was on the edge of space with his original crew. The creatures, the Risen dying and not coming back, the last stand where only he walked away -

Would she draw on him, if the time came? Put a bullet in him and leave him for dead, despite it all?

He pressed a kiss to her skull, and she let out a small noise of acknowledgement. He buried his face into her hair and closed his eyes, letting himself doze off into his thoughts with the woman in his arms.

For all the hope the man had left to give, he hoped that series of events would never come to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are upon me and yes I did stay up til 6amish on an exam day trying to finish this! I hope you all enjoy, and wish me luck! I'm gonna need it.💀 This chapter sort of hops to the 'present', and the next chapter will be going back to the past. Like I said - a bit of back and forth but it'll make sense. Promise. 
> 
> thv-nine.tumblr.com is my Destiny tumblr - give me a shout if ya wanna chat! ♡ And as always, comments keep me going and inspire me to write more!


	3. Sincerely, The Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where theory meets application, and a bounty sought between the threads.

“Any reason in particular _why_ you want a Hive Wizard?”

“Got some ideas. Need a bit of Hive Magic to see it through.”

The Warlock led with her shotgun down into a rocky pit littered with Hive seeders. Her Ghost was by her side, lighting the way down, showing all of the gruesome little details the Hive seemed to leave in their wake. 

Yet no Thrall came screaming out of the exit, no cackling of Wizards. Simply dead silence. 

Drifter had given her a small device before the mission, claiming it would suppress the Wizard’s magic enough to subdue her for capture - or so he claimed. She clipped it to her chest strap and slid down the slope, her free hand skimming the wall as her Ghost lit the way downwards. When it grew flatter, she stood once more and examined her surroundings. 

“Are you sure your ‘source’ is honest? This all looks old.” She nudged a pulsing tube on the cave wall with her shotgun, and it stopped entirely. 

The Ghost shuttered. “Gross.”

“If it’s not - well, a Warlock like you ought to be resourceful, right?” Drifter’s voice was back over comms. She rolled her eyes and pushed further down into the pit. 

She needed the glimmer. Already she was having second thoughts with working with the Drifter, but her own curiosity kept her to their deal. He never let off what his intentions were to _do_ with that Wizard, but if he needed Hive magic - that could result in any number of things. Their cult-like powers made any Risen wary, and she had even heard rumors of some trying to emulate their powers in recognition of the Traveler.

The sound of Thrall clicks had her cocking her shotgun.

"Sounds like they aren't so dead after all," he commented. She had to agree. 

Her Ghost disappeared in a flash. She summoned a Void grenade and threw it deeper into the pit. 

The shrieks of the Hive filled her ears, followed by their immediate flood into the cavern. Some withered into ash from her grenade, but others spotted her and came charging. 

"Not dead!"

"You made 'em mad, sister."

She wanted to yell at the man over the comms at stating the obvious, instead firing through the masses with her shotgun and charging through the claws that raked at her helmet and over her cloak. With each fist another one fell, crawling over the bodies like she was the most appetizing thing this side of the galaxy.She was breathing hard and fast by the time she blew the head clean off of the last Thrall. She was the only thing in the small cave besides silence.

It was a while before she heard Drifter talk again, his voice crackling through the static.

“Still kicking?”

“Yea. Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Can’t have my new partner dyin’ on me in our first little get together.”

“The bar was the first one. _This_ is the second one.”

“Who’s counting?”

“ _I am._ ”

He laughed, and the obscurity of it all caused a small smirk to flare to her face. This was stupid, going head first into danger for some money. But what was life if not the risk of death?

“Did your little friend indicate how big the Wizard was?”

“Eh…” He hesitated, and she imagined he was trying to talk his way out of saying it was more than she could chew. He seemed the kind of person to smooth talk. “Bit of a runt - can’t have it too big, else the device won’t work - but you should be fine.”

“Should be.”

“Look, I’ll throw in some more glimmer if it’s more than what they said, alright? Add another ten percent.”

That satisfied her, and she followed the cave further. It widened in many places, curved up and down, left and right - it was more of a labyrinth than a cave system, not that she would complain to him. 

The cave let out onto a ledge, and she held close to the cliff and peered down. The wizard was there - sure enough, a smaller one - but also a few Knights and Acolytes. 

"You seeing this?" Her voice was low as she reloaded her shotgun. It had to be some sort or ritual with the way that the Wizard had their undivided attention. 

"I do."

"Byte, start recording. Stand by for rez."

A red light blinked on her HUD. She leaned back over to watch them for a few moments. 

"They're worshipping something. There's a start to a Light suppression field. Can feel it," she mused to herself. She gripped her shotgun, running and leaping from the cliff into the middle of it all. 

The Wizard shrieked - Knights and Acolytes leapt at the Warlock in a frenzy. 

It took effort, but she summoned a blip of Void to consume the Acolytes and some of the Knights, their screams clawing at her just as the Thrall had earlier. The other Knights swung their swords at her as she danced away from their blades, sliding through and putting a few bullets in their head. 

Their leader - the Wizard - began to scream. It was high and eery, making her hair stand on edge. 

"Use--" Everything else Drifter started to say bled into static. Her own head was growing fuzzy as it clicked. _She_ was the Light suppression field - the interference.

She ripped Drifter's device from her chest and flipped the switch, throwing it at the still Wizard. It let out an echoing crack as it hit her, bright tethers snapping around her and effectively cutting off whatever powers she had begun to summon against her. 

Her hands found her knees as everything seemed to clear out. The comms freed themselves with a low whistle from Drifter. 

"That was close. I'll meet ya there, sister."

"Yea. Cut recording."

The red light stopped as her Ghost - Byte - appeared from nothingness and began to go over her. "No lasting problems, you'll be fine."

"A ringing endorsement," she grunted. "Anything you can tell me about what the hell just happened?"

"No idea. Ritual to summon the Darkness, consume the Light, and kill us probably."

She snorted, straightening up to go over and look at the Wizard. She was struggling against her bonds, gnashing her teeth and sputtering something in Hive-speak. 

"Yea, I hate you too," she replied. 

It was a few minutes before Drifter dropped into the cave where she had just been fighting the hordes of Acolytes and Knights. He looked almost gleeful, pulling out a small device and effectively transmatting the Wizard.

"Did good out there," he grinned. "Got more work if you're willing to put in the effort for it."

"What's going to happen to the Wizard?" She nodded her head to where it was prior. "Not that I'm attached or anything - I've never seen first hand… whatever that was."

"That, my friend, was a Deathsinger's Song," he said with a matter-of-fact tone. "And the main reason why I had you grab this one."

That explained the sudden change from when she began screaming and her struggle to get anything to cooperate. "Interesting. So it sucks the Light out of a general vicinity, or at least snuffs it out -" She clapped her hands. "Like a candle."

He gave her a nod. "Sure."

She cupped the chin of her helmet. "Sounds dangerous."

"All profitable things are." He flashed the glimmer in his hand, along with a mod engram. "For your troubles."

Byte transmatted it, pleasantly surprised that it was for a shotgun. They stood like that for a few seconds before he spoke again. 

"Got more work if you want it. In the American Dead Zone."

"Why not?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are over! Woohoo! Fingers crossed I made Dean's List this semester.
> 
> Another flash back chapter - I'm trying to get some actual plot in here I promise. I've spent the last week or so just completely developing the Warlock as a character, so she's got some personality up her sleeve that I can't wait to show! And as for the general plot of _A Frayed Red String_ \- I have something. So stick around. It'll be fantastic. 
> 
> As always - kudoses are always appreciated and comments make me want to write more!


	4. The Original Parcel of Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an intimate night, a return to a game at play.

Drifter didn't know how long he had been asleep. It was a peaceful darkness - that much was true - but he awoke in a daze. He blinked into the dim of his camp, grabbing at a thin blanket over him that had seemingly taken the place of a certain Warlock. 

There was a heavy click behind him, and for a brief second his blood turned to ice as he turned to face whoever made the noise, reaching to where his gun would have been had he not had the night before. 

He stopped when he saw her in city-folk clothing, tuning her shotgun at his tiny table and now setting it aside. She saw his jump to face her, and waved briefly.

"Go back to sleep, it's just me."

He snorted. "You expect me to go back to sleep after hearing that?"

With no immediate threat in sight, he laid back down to watch her. 

"You know how I am about my shotgun."

"Yea, yea - I think you care about that thing more than me sometimes." 

She let out a small hum. Not agreeing, but not protesting either.

He watched her take out her pistol and look down the sights.

It was the Malfeasance, the energy ebbing and flowing through the barrel of the weapon. He recalled helping her make that weapon, all with a stupid sense of giddy pride when he confessed to her his plan; stopping the man with the Golden Gun in his tracks - all of them who forged that gun. It was a blur to him thinking on how many Guardians put in the effort to actually forge it, let alone the numbers that had forsaken the Vanguard. It was dizzying - sure as hell overwhelming - but a result. 

"Surprised you still use that one," he drew a coin from thin air, crossing his arms and leaning on them. The coin rolled between his fingers. "But I'm glad. Been seeing too many kids runnin' around with Thorns, not knowing the weight of that gun. Not knowing what it can do."

"I know what it can do. I know the legend of Dredgen Yor, Jaren Ward --" She paused, emptying the barrel of her pistol and cleaning it. "Shin Malphur. Not going to bother putting a target on my back for a stupid prize."

The mood hung heavy in the air like smog. That name held more weight than he cared to admit. He rolled the coin over his knuckles. "Yea. I know."

He watched her polish the outside of her Malfeasance, eyes focused and steady. It was easy to think of Shin as a boogeyman that hid out in the wilds outside of the Tower, but how long did any of his crew have - how long did _he_ have - til they would be met on the other end of the Last Word?

She set down the Malfeasance. How long did she have? He pinged the coin across the shipping container, catching it when it came back to him. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Both of her guns were left on the table as she stood up, the dark eyed Warlock stretching from where she had been hunched over for who knows how long, considering he had been asleep. 

A thought sprung to his head. 

"Say," he leaned up from the bed to match her standing. "What was that Fallen deal you mentioned last night?"

She stretched both her arms behind her back, standing with both legs spread apart. He could see the bruises on her neck still vivid purples and reds. It spurned a bright emotion in him - Pride? "Needed supplies. Said the wrong thing. Got blown up, but they forgot my Ghost."

"Why're you trading with Fallen?"

"Sometimes--" she paused, leaning to one side. "Sometimes, City supplies is expensive. Fallen are smart and like money. I can get a good deal if I play my cards right. Now they're dead because they banked on me being a stupid Guardian walking into an obvious trap."

There was a silence. He couldn't help a wry smile. "So what made you think of me? Unless you think I'm a stupid Guardian who could fall for a trap like that."

She shrugged, dropping her arms with a lazy grin. "Dunno. Maybe. Was wondering what kind of homecoming I would be getting when I finally touched base," she spread her palms out, gesturing to the shipping container. "And here we are."

He couldn't help a laugh. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t plan it.”

A smirk. “I could tell. You treat all your crew like this?”

“Only the one.”

There was no response as he watched her. The jade necklace was still around her neck as she carefully removed it, moving towards him and dropping it around his head rather unceremoniously. 

“For the greaves.” 

He opened his mouth to comment as she bent over and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. It was uncharacteristically gentle of her, all things considered, but he found himself wondering if that was how she was like outside of the armor. His skin tingled just a bit from the touch.

“You keep actin’ like this and I’m gonna start wonderin’ if you wanna make friends with Primevals next.”

“Keep it between us,” she said offhandedly with a ghost of a smile, grabbing her duster and gauntlets that had wound up on the floor next to the bed. “But when the first one wants to talk to me instead of tearing the Light from my corpse, I’ll talk. Doesn’t mean it won’t end up with a face full of lead though.”

He grinned. That was the Warlock he knew. 

“You goin’ in today?”

“Yea. I need to blow off some steam before I go out again.”

That would be her other ‘job’ - mercenary work. Being hired out to go and kill the enemies of humanity not for the Light, but for a nice sum of glimmer. He’d met her patron before - a short Exo Warlock who went by ‘Silver’, and she paid just as well as he did half the time for easier work. 

Part of him couldn’t help but think that maybe the Warlock was into Gambit for the joy of killing. It explained why she eagerly grabbed the title of Dredgen, not that she used it in any company other than his. A joke, making fun of the Shadows in the dark that were all too eager to pull a gun on him after a mistaken deal when they first met, only to be killed.

“Where you off to next?” He sat up, pulling the blanket around him as he avoided the edge of the cabinet. 

“Rumor has it, the edge of space.” He watched her spirit away her original duster and gauntlets in exchange for her Invader set of gear. Red snakes glared at him in the low light, not that he minded. “Some relic out there that Silver wants to grab. Says it’s worth a lot and worth the pay if I go out.”

“Bring me a souvenir, will you?” 

“Always.” 

Drifter watched her get dressed in silence. Boots were laced up, armor clipped into place, and her bond strapped on carefully. Her helmet was the last thing to be donned - lined with Ahamkara jaws, coated in a shiny obsidian metal. She claimed before their whispers were silent, not that he doubted her.

His whistle was low. The dark void of a faceplate seemed to draw him in as she looked at him.

“What?” Her voice was low, warped from the voice module of her helmet. 

“The look suits you, sister.”

“It better,” she moved back to the table, strapping the Malfeasance to her hip as her shotgun was gripped with a steady hand. “I didn’t fight for this gear to look like I’m going to hug someone.”

She smoothed a hand over the frame of her shotgun, drawing his eyes to it. 

“You know I modeled a Gambit drop after it,” he nodded to it. “Felt inspired.”

“I know. ‘Parcel of Stardust’ isn’t that original from mine. I ought to be getting royalties from you.”

“Yea, yea,” he stood up finally, scavenging for his clothes with a hand gripping the blanket tight. “I’ll add that to what I already owe ya.”

She stepped out of the shipping container. He watched with a flick of her wrist how she summoned her Ghost and gave him a tilt of her head - her helmeted version of a wink, he imagined.

“See you out there, Drift. I’ll try not to get killed so you don’t owe me much more.”

She was transmatted from his ship without a word of protest from him. It was a fleeting sentiment. Her record in Gambit was better than a lot of people he had seen, but she wasn’t perfect. No one was. Despite her skill, her survivability - she could be here one day and gone the next. Guardians died in Gambit - that was inevitable, everyone was given that little disclaimer as soon as they grabbed a bounty and the ones who brushed it off were arrogant enough to deserve it. But it was a potential.

The blanket sagged from his shoulders, allowing for the chill to seep in. It wasn’t a nice thought. Not the one of her from the night before, with her body against his and with the way she moved with decadence in desperation. His hand reached up to rub his neck where she had bit him. 

He shook his head, discarding the lingering thoughts as he got dressed. Within the hour he was back to open his slice of the Annex to the eager, unwashed masses of Guardians who wanted to trade in bounties. He didn’t see the Warlock with the Ahamkara bones swing by to pick up bounties, but he did see her when he was preparing to drop one of the first teams into Gambit Prime.

“Bright and early huh? Hope you’re ready to fight some big ones today,” he called to the two teams lined up on either side of him.

The ruby halo around her helmet glowed in the darkness of the Derelict. He tried not to watch her too much as her teammates gave her an approving nod to her armor and shotgun, and with the flip of a coin he had them dropping into the Emerald Coast. Eight Ghost feeds shined before him, with eight different perspectives and names with statistics on heart rate, ammo, Super energy, mote count, and a score tally. 

He tuned his comms in to her’s specifically. “Hey there - been ages since I’ve seen you. How you livin’?”

There was a laugh, followed by the sight of her gripping a Psion and shorting it out with a pulse of void. It was easier to talk with this filter between them, he could forget himself while being the master over Gambit. Being ‘The Drifter’, as opposed the man too caught up in his own worries and paranoia.

“Tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night,” came the staticy reply. “There’s this guy right? Bit of a bastard. Gave me a run for my money.”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass,” he murmured. She blew the head off of a Phalanx and slid past a Centurion that was charging towards her. Her teammates’ motes were rapidly climbing. “Maybe you’re too good for him.”

“Maybe.” Another shot. Her head twisted to the bank, where one of her teammates was waving at her. Her own hand flew into the screen in acknowledgement as she glided towards them, throwing the motes into the bank. A small jerk of her head had her heading towards the invasion portal, and darkness flooded her feed.

“Do you like the way it makes you feel? To invade?” His voice was dangerously low, spurned on by the intensity of watching her. Watching her fight in a first person perspective, knowing that woman that he could have begging for more was vicious and without mercy. “Knowing that you can kill those Guardians?”

She seemed to have no answer as he watched her cross-map a Hunter with her Malfeasance, showering the area with several motes. A Titan rushed her just as she pulled out her shotgun, stopping the other short as she drew a Nova Bomb to take out the other two on the opposing team that were waiting for her to time out. 

“Pulling you back. Four down.”

The feed became clear again. Her team had managed to get the Primeval up in record time. There was a warning on two of her teammates’ HUDs. “Had to focus. Working. You know how it is.”

“That I do, sister. That I do.” He watched as she withdrew a sword. “That’s new.”

“Made it myself with that Fallen tech.” She was taking the heat off of her team as they let into the Taken Wizards, shielding them as they took down their overshields. The other team was prepping for invasion, the rest of the squad throwing in their motes until the Titan leapt through. Now his screen was the eerie black her’s once was.

He said nothing as the warning of an invader flashed on her HUD. The others ducked for cover, but she openly scouted out the Titan. He wasn’t about to give her an unfair advantage, watching from the Titan’s point of view as her name was outlined on his UI. 

She went in with her sword. Taken projectiles zipped past her as she blinked across the map, looking for him. The Titan skirted under where the Primeval was stood, waiting for her. 

Drifter gripped the jade coin a little bit tighter, watching with hungry eyes as the two health bars of the Primevals held steady. Both were being whittled down, each team fighting as the Warlock and the Titan hunted one another. He watched her radar glow red from all angles - his as it focused solely with the nameplate that he knew belonged to her--

Arc energy met void and he leaned in over eager to watch as both met in a battle of fists. She crushed his skull and he punched her square in the breastplate. Both screens flashed white with alert signals - critical health from the both of them. It was in slow motion as her sword was brought down on him, both a first person and a third person perspective as he was sliced at with her sword in a free hand.

His body crumpled like paper. His Ghost zipped out as the Warlock tipped her head with a cheeky thumbs up to the AI, blinking away just as their Primeval was killed in a roar of dark matter.

He released the breath he was holding, as he did the coin in his hand. 

“You think I’m too good for that man?” Her voice was back again, breathless. Filled with adrenaline. Her teammates rushed her with high fives.

“Sometimes, maybe.” He hummed. “Wonder why a woman like you hangs around ‘m.”

“Oh, you know. He's not _that_ bad. Plus I think he appreciates the way I get the job done.”

“You know, I think you might be right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. I fought with this one. 
> 
> If you're ever interested in what I do in my "free time", my official discord channel is https://discord.gg/FFDVwas. I'm making some subchannels for my writing specifically on there but I'm always down to chat about my characters/writing and you can hear the endless talking I do about Drifter/Shattered Throne/my headcanons/what have you. ^^ Plus my twitch is there, so you can ALSO watch me struggle some how some way at Destiny. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudoses are always appreciated, and comments make me wanna keep writing!


	5. Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The threads are bone thin when they part.

"Draw."

The Warlock watched from across the table as Drifter took a card from the stack, folding it into his hand without so much as a blink. He flicked a small cube of glimmer into the steadily growing jackpot.

The Risen to his left watched him like a hawk. She tried not to pay too much mind, feeling the steady weight of her shotgun leaning on her leg, waiting for Drifter to give the signal of him completely throwing the game sideways with the wrong card.

It was a set up. No good card games were held in an empty bar. Probably from both parties if the others had half a mind to know what they were getting into. 

The one to her right with a scar on his mouth put down a card with three half moons and a full one. She snapped her own down on top of it - two halves and a whole. 

She brushed off the look he gave her as her eyes flicked to Drifter simply in passing. She had sent Byte away if things got dicey, which it would. The last time she had gone against three Risen with Drifter, she had the element of surprise and it was a matter of happenstance that they appeared. Now they sat playing cards with devils and demons willingly.

It was his idea. She should’ve backed out when she had the chance, but now it was time to put her money where her mouth was. She tilted her head, grimacing at the satisfying pop from her neck. The woman on Drifter’s left jumped like a deer.

“No need to be all spooked,” she commented lightly. Another card - two full circles. “This game’s taken longer than I’ve been alive.”

“I wasn’t spooked,” came the response. She watched as the other’s eyes flicked from her hand to the pile of glimmer and back.

“Sure.” She held her hand closer to her face, leaning on her elbows. “And I’m Kell of Kings.”

“Knock it off,” the Risen to her right graveled out. Full circle and a half.

“I’m only speaking the truth.” She pushed a few cubes into the pile. They certainly were friendly.

They were dead silent again. She wanted to pick up her shotgun and wipe them all out, but Drifter was stalling. Holding out for something. She knew him well enough from these past few runs that he was a sneak with a card up his sleeve, and that she wasn’t willing to bite the hand that had been feeding her pretty well all things considered. 

A single circle card hit the table. All eyes looked up to see Drifter grinning and reaching for the pile. 

“Thank you all kindly,” he laughed, much to the annoyance of the people they were supposed to be attacking. The glimmer was pocketed and stowed away. He pushed his chair away from the table, nodding idly. “Now my friend and I best be on our way, we ‘precciate the game.”

She stood up, as did the other Risen. Her heart jumped into her head as she picked up her shotgun, doing her best to remain casual. Easy breathing.

“I think we have time for another game,” came the third of the three. “Don’t you think?”

“Nah - it’s getting late.” Drifter frowned, nodding to the Warlock. She circled the table, watching the hands of the others. They weren’t reaching for their weapons - yet. Eyes were staring the pair of them down like rabid animals. 

They made it out the door before the yelling started. She gripped her shotgun, whipping around to watch the group fight among themselves with hands reaching for pistols and each other's’ throats with glowing fists. Drifter grabbed her arm and yanked her outside, slamming the door behind them. 

“I thought you said we had to kill them,” she asked lowly, keeping her shotgun close. A small explosion sounded from inside of the bar. “Not rob them blind.”

His eyes flashed in the dark, starting to move away from the eventual ground-zero if the Guardians went nuclear. “They’ll kill themselves for us.”

She tried not to seem as annoyed as she truly was as she followed him. All of this preparation, secret hush-hush nonsense just to let some Risen squabble and tear into one another. He could have done it by himself, but she had the feeling she was the backup plan.

“They didn’t draw on you because I was there,” she observed. “A reverse ambush.”

“Exactly."

"If you wanted a bodyguard, maybe specify that next time. I went in there ready to kill them--"

"That's what you were supposed to do. Be ready to kill them," he growled out. "They didn't draw on us, but you needed to be ready if they _did_."

"I _was_ ready, I just think we could've gotten by if you just said you wanted me to look intimidating." 

He waved his hand, causing a surge of spite to cut into her stomach. She thought of Byte asking her if it would be worth it to completely annihilate a source of income in the post-apocalypse. She resigned herself to holding herself looser. Relaxing but not, considering they had a few miles' trek until they got to safety.

Hours passed. The air was cold - getting colder as Luna rose higher up into the star-littered sky. She could see her own breath as she followed after Drifter, casting a glance towards the dark trees. Byte was out there, hopefully keeping her rag-tag looking jumpship warm and at the ready. The thought of a warm meal and a safe place to sleep were all too tempting a mistress as she closed her eyes to imagine. Void hunger often drove her insane, but with the solution to it within walking distance - it was a tolerable trade off.

And for a moment, she could smell _something_. But it wasn't that comforting meal she dreamed of, it was rotting and hot metal and ozone. Something wrong. Something Risen.

She grabbed his arm, digging her fingers into his gauntlet. "Something's not right."

He looked at her for some kind of explanation but she pointed to her nose and pressed a finger to her lips. Letting go of him, she gripped her shotgun with renewed fervor. There had either been a recent fight or they were being set up for an ambush. 

Drifter grabbed his auto rifle that was slung across his back, watching the treeline and undergrowth. She scanned her own side, looking for any flashes of Light in the dark.

“I can’t rez,” she whispered urgently. “Sent my Ghost away. Didn’t want him getting killed if things got bad.”

Drifter said nothing as he jerked his head to where they were going, the muzzle of his gun taking the lead. “Stay low. If anything starts firin’, you kill it.”

She nodded, and they sprinted into the darkness. Branches and brambles tore at them like Thrall talons, scraping against their armor and digging in. A rogue thorn cut her face as she whipped past it, but it would heal. She wasn’t worried about a single scratch so much as she was on what hid in the dark. 

An explosion sounded from behind them, followed by a bright flash of blue Arc energy. She didn’t look back, cocking her shotgun all the while as the smell of ozone became overwhelming. She didn’t stop to see if Drifter was keeping up, ducking under a widowmaker tree and pressing onwards. 

She felt an Arc bolt hit her in the back and she stumbled into a thicket. Her overshield was fried - she didn’t need a Ghost or a HUD to tell her that. She managed to get back up, only to see a pair of Risen racing towards her with electricity in their hands. She could see the outline of their faces from the energy - one was the nervous woman from their card game, the other she didn’t recognize. They had fallen right into that trap after all. 

Her panic flared. She grabbed her gun and clenched her fist, channeling her Void Light outwards. The space between molecules crushed that which occupied space in a wave pulse, causing a blowout with her as the centre for it all. Trees snapped, rocks shattered, and the two Risen stumbled back with a pop and hiss of their own shields dropping. 

She gripped her gun, pointing at the dazed. Blood was running down her forehead - the metal smell was clouding her senses. “You’ve got three seconds. What the hell’s your problem?”

The unknown Risen regarded her with a look of scorn. “You’ve no right.”

She shot him in the head without a second thought, swinging the gun to the woman from the card game. She had no idea where their Ghosts were hiding, and if she looked away from his body he might be resurrected before she knew it. 

“You’re on the wrong side of history,” the woman regarded her with a proud look. “That man’s a Dredgen.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I really don’t give a damn so long as I get paid. Besides, we’ve killed Dredgens,” she held her ground. “Three of them. Bar outside of Old Paris. Had Thorns.”

That gave the other woman pause. Her brows furrowed in confusion. “You’ve killed Dredgens?”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” She cocked her gun. The woman didn’t flinch. “You take your friend and leave me the hell alone. I’m not someone you want to mess with, and I’m giving you the option to leave and not get involved any more than you are. Not a lot of second chances in this world.”

The woman glanced down to the crumpled body of her partner before looking at the Warlock again. “He’s made enemies. Got a lot of good people killed.”

“What are you, my Ghost?” She sneered. “Last chance.”

She watched carefully as the other woman bent over and took her friend’s body effortlessly over her shoulder. She tried not to show that her hands were shaking from the adrenaline of almost dying, her feet planted into the ground as she gestured with the front of her gun back to where they came. The woman began to walk away, trudging through the bushes with the body. 

“If I see you again, it’s too soon,” the Warlock called. There was no response from the other in return. She wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand, letting out a shuddering sigh that wracked her body.

When the couldn’t see the other Risen, she looked to the sky for navigation. The North star was to her left, so due east would have her at her jumpship a few clicks away. She had no idea where Drifter was; part of her wondered if the reason why the others backed off was because he had been captured or killed.

Worry gnawed at her. Worry for her own Ghost, for her patron - each second blurred into another as she slugged through the undergrowth. She wasn’t safe.

Daybreak was on the horizon when she could see the scabbed up bronze paint of her ship. Nothing had moved from where she left it. 

She leaned on her shotgun, eyes darting in the spaces where others could be waiting. She saw a flicker of light from her ship, and relief flooded her as it was only Byte.

Her Ghost said nothing at first as he went over her. She was still exhausted, but the stings and aches faded into a dull, tolerable throb.

“Don’t leave me here next time,” the small drone worried over her. “You could’ve been killed and I would have spent a week trying to find you in the forest. Or worse if they took you.”

“Missed you too.” 

“Don’t act like it’s nothing!” Byte buzzed, looking furious for a Ghost. The gold of his shell snapped like an angry trout. “I could have lost you!”

She didn’t comment. He wasn’t wrong. Byte had briefly told her about his struggles to find her and resurrect her the first time. Fallen, raiders, even other Risen would chase him off and away, leaving him with dashed hopes until he happened upon a mostly dismantled and pillaged ship with her inside. 

Not that any of it mattered. She felt like death walking.

“Drifter’s here too.” Byte said after a long moment. “Fell asleep in the storage.” 

“Hope he’s ready for a rude awakening,” she commented as she made a beeline for her ship. The hatch opened in the belly of it thanks to Byte, whom she could hear vanish behind her and into the hull of it. She climbed the steps, watching as all of the lights flicker to life. The stairwell to her left led to the Directory, while the steeper one to the right took her to where crates of supplies and goods were. 

She hugged the metal plated wall, finding Drifter dozing on a pile of rations boxes. With the way he was breathing, she knew he was awake.

“When were you going to tell me you were one of them?” 

“One of who?” He didn’t open his eyes.

“The Shadows. One of those Guardians told me.”

“You’re gonna believe the ones that almost got you killed?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you almost got me killed too,” she said pointedly as she crossed her arms.

“We’ve been runnin’ together for a while now, sister. I’ve even called you one o’my crew to some of my friends,” Drifter finally sat up, stretching. He didn’t look at her. “Would’a been broken up if somethin’ happened to ya.”

“If your friends are Shadows, I don’t want my name in their mouths.” She scowled. “And if you’re one of them, I want you off my ship.”

“They ain’t my friends anymore,” his hands were on his knees as he stood up. “They’re all fools, and they don’t take too lightly to people just ‘leaving’.”

“So that’s why they’re after you.”

“One of many reasons. ‘S why I’m glad I made a friend of you in that bar.”

“Well…” She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re welcome. Still doesn’t justify leaving me in that forest.”

“Consider that a test, sister.” He nodded his head, a smile now forming. “I’m makin’ a crew. Leaving this system without so much as goodbye. Figured, if you could get out of that you might wanna come along.”

That threw her for a loop. “What?”

“I’m leavin’. There isn’t anything for us out here, and I’m goin’ to live. Survive.” 

That wasn’t what she anticipated hearing. Maybe an apology or a ‘sorry’ or something. But not that. She rubbed the back of her neck, sitting on a crate of ammo synthesis. “When are you going?”

“Three sunrises from now, off the Sahara. That last bit of glimmer we got sealed the deal for us.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” she watched as Drifter stood up and gathered his things. “Never worked well with others if I’m honest.”

He laughed. “We all got our flaws. Be a shame to miss you, but the offer’s on the table.”

“Yea.”

He left her ship that afternoon with a grin and a set of coordinates. For the next two days she would sit back in the jumpseat of her ship and count the stars in the heavens between debating the pros and cons. There was nothing here for her - Drifter was right about that. But there was a gut feeling of the unknown and dying out there among stars the Light had never touched. Then again, she never had asked for this - asked to be Risen. 

But here she was. Very, very much alive.

The night of, she flew her ship just shy of his coordinates. Through the dunes on the wing of her copper ship she could see his crew - at least two dozen Risen and a handful of maintenance frames - loading up a large jumpship forged from at least five of her own shipclass. It was a monstrosity, but with the way it revved its engines she had a mild confidence they wouldn’t be vaporised when breaking orbit.

She could see Drifter in his armor, casting a final look over the dunes. For a moment he seemed to stare back at her and her ship - a speck of dust in the sea of yellow - probably wondering if she would join them in their one way ticket to a different life in the stars. 

It was several minutes before he and the others went into the ship. The engines were hot even without the desert sun, and beating up a sandstorm as it finally took off. She shielded her eyes from the dust as she watched his ship turn into a little black dot in the morning light and blink out into nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing these two. They're such a great back-and-forth and have so much history!!
> 
> My personal discord is https://discord.gg/FFDVwas - feel free to join! I will ramble about my characters and often might post little drabbles in there for things that don't quite make the cut for these chapters/larger works - and you can do the same too! I love hearing about other's Guardians and OCs. :D Plus you can see me complain about playing Destiny too, my stream is linked to it.
> 
> As always, kudoses are welcome and comments keep me inspired! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎


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